The Ashes of a Dove
by CatS81
Summary: A case involving suspicious fires dating back to 1987 provides a new challenge for the recently fractured Cold Case Unit....
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I don't own 'Waking the Dead' or any of its characters, the BBC has that honour – I'm just taking them out to play for a bit. The character of DI Daniel McCaige is, however, all mine :)

**Pairing**: Boyd/Grace.

**Rating**: T/M, for now, for language, adult themes.

**Spoilers**: This story is set about eight months after 'End Game' so there will definitely be spoilers for that episode – plus, more than likely for 'Magdelene 26'. Other than that, there is nothing specific at this point; I will add spoiler warnings for individual chapters if I think of anything as I go! :)

**A/N**: So, a brand new fic for a brand new year and decade! This story will introduce my own character, Daniel McCaige – I have written two original stories using this character before so I thought it might be fun to incorporate him into the wonderful world of 'Waking the Dead'! Hope you enjoy this first, very brief taster/teaser – as always, I welcome any kind of feedback: positive, negative or indifferent, I just like to know what you're thinking as readers so please feel free to be as honest as you like, I promise I will never be offended! :) Oh, and one more thing, most importantly – my thanks to **shadowsamurai83** for the beta on this fic; your keen eye and your thoughts are very much appreciated!

* * *

**Prologue**

_1987_

The blaze glittered alluring against the canvas of the inky night sky and Alice Baker smiled with relief as she watched the intense heat beginning to rise, the panic ensuing amongst the people below her elevated viewing position. A glow of contentment diffused through her chest as she listened to their screams for help, their laboured, gasping breaths as they staggered hopelessly from the beautifully flickering building, the spectacular orange flames a glorious contrast to its dull mediocrity, searing their mark across its walls like a sunset.

"There are still people alive in there! We have to help them!"

"We _can't_! The radiation risk is off the scale, don't you fucking dare go back in there...!"

Alice frowned as the words bellowed below her, a curl of anger snaking through her gut, and she shook her head emphatically in the darkness. _Why can't they understand? I did this for them, for all of them, so they'd be free.... The ones left are not people, not __any more__, not for a long time. I did this all for them.... _Bitterness filled her mouth, the taste permeating her tongue, but she swallowed its acid fluidity, forcing it to the pit of her stomach, righteous indignation asserting itself once more in her mind. _I know they'll call me mad, insane, unhinged. But I know what I am. And I know what they are. And one day they'll thank me...._

Her own words echoing loudly in her ears, her face alight with her joy, Alice turned her back on the chaotic scene before her eyes and began to walk slowly away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer, Pairing, Rating & Spoilers**: See Chapter 1

**A/N**: There is a little nod in this chapter to **Jayneysuk**'s excellent fic, 'Insane Commitment' – thanks, hun, for one of my favourite stories ever! And again, many thanks to **shadowsamurai83** for the beta :)

* * *

_2010_

Detective Sergeant Katrina Howard threw down her pen in frustration and glared hotly at the retreating back of her boss, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. The ever increasing pile of paperwork on her desk had grown by almost another foot seemingly overnight and despite the lengthy hours she was beginning to spend cooped inside the walls of the bullpen, she never felt as though her progress came close to matching her dogged commitment, her determined work ethic. She sighed again, the air escaping noisily from her lungs, and she ran a hand through her mass of curls before settling her chin against her palm. _This is getting ridiculous_.... Without pausing to further consider the rapidly declining path of her thoughts or the wisdom of her actions, Kat rose resolutely from her chair and approached the closed door of her boss' office, tapping forcefully on the glass and peering into the room before waiting for a reply.

"You got a minute, sir?"

Detective Superintendent Peter Boyd looked up at his subordinate over the top of his reading glasses, his rugged features creasing into a frown as he absorbed her serious expression, and he gestured at her to step fully into the office, his dark eyes following as she slumped into the chair opposite his.

"What's going on?" he asked momentarily, concern pulling at his senses as he surveyed the tensed hunch of her shoulders, the figurative dark storm cloud swirling oppressively about her head.

Kat took a deep breath, berating herself mentally for the sudden twinge of nervousness in her stomach which she fought desperately to suppress. "I...I just wondered if...."

Boyd sighed loudly, his frustration evident as he ran a hand across his face. "For God's sake, Kat, spit it out, would you? I'm right in the middle of something here."

She looked at him evenly, the reason for her presence in his office reasserting itself clearly in her mind. "That's just the point. You're busy, I'm busy, and I'm sick of spending every bloody evening and weekend stuck in here trying to catch up on paperwork."

The older man's dark eyes hardened. "If you've just come in here to moan like some petulant teenager, you can...."

Kat fought a powerful urge to roll her eyes. "I'm not moaning, sir, I'm just trying to tell you that it's not working. That it hasn't been working for months."

"You're going to have to be more specific, Sergeant."

She leant forwards, sincerity etched onto her delicate features. "Spence left this unit eight months ago. I know he's been in and out since then to offer his assistance, but I've basically had to cover the work of two detectives and...frankly, sir, I'm not paid enough."

Boyd folded his arms across his chest and regarded her silently through narrowed eyes. "You want a new DC."

Kat threw up her hands. "A DC, another DS, I'd even settle for a DI, Boyd. Just someone to help take the pressure off a bit."

A smile began to twitch at the corners of his mouth. "You think you could take having another senior officer in here after eight months on your own?"

The DS felt her gut coil defensively, self-righteousness prickling up her spine. "I managed alright with Spence, didn't I?"

He gave a conciliatory shrug. "Yes, you did."

"I don't think it's an unreasonable request, sir."

Boyd sighed. "It's a question of budgets, Kat. You know we're not exactly the Met's most popular unit, the...."

"With respect, Boyd, that's not my problem."

"Well, like it or not, as a member of this team, it becomes your problem by extension."

"So, what? I'm just meant to muddle on the way I have been?"

"I might be able to get you a PC on secondment...."

Kat blew out her breath. "For how long? A month? Three? It's not exactly a long-term solution, is it?"

Boyd willed calm to his bloodstream, snippets of Shakespearian dialogue floating unbidden through his mind. "I'm aware of that."

"I'm asking for your _help_, Boyd, your support. I'm not willing to work like this any more."

The DSI felt his patience evaporate suddenly, diffusing through the air and away from his control. "Does the word 'recession' mean nothing to you?" he snapped abruptly.

Kat rolled her eyes. "Meaning I should be grateful I have a job at all, is that it?"

"Meaning that the people who control the Met's purse strings are getting more stringent about what they spend public money on and investing in cold cases isn't exactly top of their priority lists just at the moment."

"That's a poor excuse, Boyd."

"That's reality, Kat. I don't like it any more than you do but it's just the way it is."

Kat looked at him unwaveringly. "You're telling me to put up or shut up."

"I'm telling you I'll look into the possibility of a PC secondment but that I can't make you any promises."

The younger woman sighed, pressing her hands to her thighs as she stood and paced to the office door, half turning back towards her boss, the words forming on her lips before she could stop them. "You know, sir, I'd take you more seriously if you were actually honest instead of feeding me the party political bullshit."

The DSI's expression darkened dangerously, his chestnut eyes glittering, his voice low as he replied. "Meaning what?"

"Why can't you just admit that you don't want to replace Spence or Stella?"

"It's got nothing to do with that...."

"And you talk about _me_ facing reality, when the hell are you going to...?"

"Get out," he barked sharply, cutting her off abruptly, feeling anger and frustration surge through his veins as she slammed the door forcefully in her wake, the frame shaking violently behind her.

"Shit," he breathed quietly into the oppressive silence of the now empty office, pressing his thumb and index finger to his eyes, trying to force away the throbbing headache that was suddenly threatening to overwhelm him. "Shit, shit, shit...."

"Problem?"

Boyd glanced up irritably at the interruption to his profaning, his eyes falling on the familiar figure of Doctor Grace Foley as she leant against his door frame, her eyebrows raised in question.

"Don't start with me." He groaned as he watched her enter the room and take a seat on the couch, crossing one slender leg over the other, her hands folding serenely in her lap as she looked at him, her face a mask of tranquillity.

"Want to tell me what that was all about?"

He sighed loudly and squeezed his eyes closed. "Not really."

"Hmm. Perhaps I shouldn't have phrased that as a question."

He smiled across the room at her despite himself. "Well, it's too late now."

The psychologist looked at him steadily. "Did Kat want to talk about her workload?"

Boyd made a face. "What is this, some kind of female conspiracy? I'm overrun by bloody women in this team."

She suppressed a smirk as she continued, determination lacing her tone. "Was that what Kat wanted to discuss?"

"The office of the Valkyries?"

Grace rolled her sapphire eyes. "Boyd."

"She wants a new DC, Grace. Or in point of fact, she wants anybody, of any rank; she wasn't too particular about it."

The profiler was silent for several moments before she raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's about time, don't you think?"

The DSI groaned loudly, theatrically. "Not you as well."

Grace held up her palms. "I'm just saying it can't have been easy for her these past few months. We've had lots of cases, loose ends to tie up, and she's been juggling all of it by herself."

He looked at her scathingly. "Well, not quite by herself, Grace. I'm a detective too, as it happens."

She studiously ignored his tone. "Yes, but in a supervisory role. What Kat needs is help on the shop floor, as it were."

He sighed. "It's a question of money. I'll never get the funds approved for another officer, it's as simple as that."

"Have you tried?"

"I know the bean counters, Grace. I'd be wasting my breath."

"Well, I think you should at least make an effort. It's not fair on Kat otherwise."

"I said I'd try and get her a PC seconded to the unit. It might be the best I can do."

She regarded him quietly with her head on one side, watching the emotions flicker briefly across his features before he wrestled them back within his control. "You seem awfully reticent about this, Boyd, more than just concerns over budgets, it's...."

"Oh, for God's sake, why do women always think there's another level to everything?!" He stood up suddenly, moving to pace irritably before her, beginning to gesture with his hands as he spoke. "It's got nothing to do with my reluctance to replace Spence or Stella, alright? So don't start down the psychoanalysis route with me, Grace, I'm not in the mood."

"Is that what Kat thinks?"

"What?"

"That you're having a hard time employing someone new because of how you feel about Spence and Stella?"

"It's irrelevant, Grace, because it isn't true."

"You had the same trouble after Mel, remember?"

Her voice was soft, her tone washing in waves about his consciousness and he closed his eyes briefly, aware of his feet halting their movements of their own accord. "Spence isn't dead," he said flatly, despondency catching at the edges of his words.

"You know I wasn't talking about Spence."

He sighed heavily and dropped onto the couch beside her, his arm and thigh flush against hers. "Yeah."

She laid her palm gently against his knee. "It's okay to admit it, you know."

"Hmm." The noise reverberated from deep in his throat.

"And once you _have_ admitted it, you'll find it a damn sight easier to employ a new officer for this team."

He shook his head, unconsciously picking up her hand in his and stroking his thumb across the velvet softness of her skin. "I wasn't making it up about the money. Even getting the funding for a DC might be pushing it."

She focussed her gaze on her lap as she spoke again, keeping her voice steady as she tried to ignore the shivers of her body beneath his ministrations. "So a DI would be completely out of the question, then?"

Boyd looked at her, frowning as a ripple of suspicion passed through his chest at her avoidance of his gaze, and he pulled at her hand to draw her attention. "Don't tell me you've got someone in mind?"

Grace shrugged her slim shoulders evasively. "I might have."

"And how long were you planning on keeping that to yourself?"

She glanced at him. "Until you decided you were ready."

"Or until Kat started to push me."

"Yeah. Whichever came first."

"You know I can't necessarily employ this person just on your recommendation, Grace, don't you? Whatever insights you might happen to have on their personality or their relationship with their mother or...." He sighed dramatically and broke off at her slow smile, fully aware he would be unable to refuse her. "Oh, go on, then, put me out of my misery. Who is he?"

She smiled, her eyes dancing mischievously. "Why d'you assume it's a 'he'?"

"It had better bloody well be a 'he', Grace, I'm feeling significantly outnumbered these days."

The profiler stroked his fingers playfully. "Ah. You feel we're a threat to your masculinity, is that it?"

"There's nothing wrong with my masculinity." He smirked teasingly, his dark eyes shining. "As well you know."

Despite herself, Grace felt heat beginning to creep into her cheeks and she cleared her throat, forcing herself to ignore his rapidly broadening grin as she withdrew her hand from his, an attempt to restore their professionalism. "Yes, well, that aside.... The 'he' in question is DI Daniel McCaige, currently of Finchley Flying Squad."

Boyd frowned, searching his memory for recognition. "McCaige? How d'you know him?"

"I worked with him on various cases when I was a freelance consultant, mostly murders, serial killings, anything involving a psychological element, as you'd expect...."

"He any good?"

She looked at him derisively. "I wouldn't have suggested him if he wasn't."

"What made you think of him now?"

The psychologist shrugged casually. "He rang me last month to ask my opinion on a case. Just got me thinking, given our current staffing situation."

"And why d'you think he'd be persuaded to leave the glittering and glamorous world of CID to join us in our poky basement office?"

"I think the type of cases we deal with he'd find...interesting. And challenging."

Boyd surveyed her critically, half turning in his position to take in her posture, her body language, noting her deliberate avoidance of his gaze with a frown. He shook his head after several moments, tutting with disapproval before beginning to speak once more. "You're holding out on me, Grace. What's the catch?"

She rolled her eyes. "Why do you always assume there's a catch?"

"Come on. How long have we known each other?"

"Daniel's a good officer, Boyd. We'd be lucky to...."

He moaned in frustration. "Oh, stop it. What aren't you telling me?"

Grace sighed heavily, weighing the wisdom of her next words against the edges of her mind before speaking again. "Just...promise you'll hear me out before you go off on one, alright?"

Boyd blew out his breath. "Christ, it must be serious."

"Well, no, actually, it's not all that serious. In fact, it's a plus as far as I'm concerned, I'm just not sure you're going to see it that way."

He held up his thumb and forefinger a minute distance apart. "Grace, I swear, I am _this_ close to striking him from consideration altogether...."

"Okay." She took a deep breath. "He's a psychology graduate. And he's almost finished a PhD in criminology, I've been his second supervisor."

"Oh, God." Boyd groaned loudly, the prolonged sound of pain reverberating about the walls of his office, and he dropped his face to his hands before rising once more to look at her, shaking his head firmly whilst trying to ignore the flickers of hope dancing in her radiant blue eyes. "Absolutely no chance, Grace. I'm not having two psychologists on this team, end of story; I have enough trouble with the one I've got."

The profiler sighed wearily, ignoring the slightly barbed tone to his words. "First of all, he's fundamentally a copper, Boyd. He's just fascinated by psychology and, if anything, it's made him better at his job, he's...."

"Oh, come on. You're saying Kat and I are somehow deficient as police officers just because we don't have fancy letters after our names or the ability to spout mumbo-jumbo at the drop of a hat?!"

She looked at him evenly, her voice steady. "Stop trying to pick a fight, Peter. That's not at all what I said and you know it."

"It hasn't helped him that much in his career if he's only made it to DI, has it? How come he hasn't risen through the ranks to the top brass?"

"Because it's not what he's about. He enjoys grass roots detective work, coupled with a need to know what makes criminals tick psychologically. Surely you can see that's an asset?"

"It's not a bloody asset if he comes in here and starts throwing his weight around, is it?"

Grace looked mildly amused. "And what makes you think he would do that?"

"Because those type of people always do, Grace, especially those type of coppers."

"Oh, there's a ridiculous, narrow-minded stereotype if ever I heard one! Have you ever actually _met_ a policeman with a PhD, Boyd?"

"Yes. The Chief Constable and he's a mark one tosser."

Grace felt the corners of her mouth begin to twitch but she fought to keep her expression neutral. "You need to get over yourself. Call Daniel in for an interview and save the judgements for then, alright?"

"You know, last time I checked, Grace, I was the head of this unit, not you."

She laid a hand on his arm. "I'm telling you, if you let your completely unnecessary insecurity about this get in the way...."

"I'm not insecure. Let's be quite clear on that."

"....you'll be missing out on a chance to change this team for the better."

He groaned loudly and leant his head back against the wall. "Why d'you always have to be so melodramatic? He's not God, is he, or am I missing something?"

The profiler smiled brightly, fully aware that she had won the battle, and she patted his leg briefly before getting to her feet. "Give him a ring, Boyd, he's on the Met database. Do it today."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, alright," he conceded irritably. "If that's what it'll take to get you off my bloody case for five minutes...."

Grace's smile broadened as she made to leave the office, her fingers closing about the door handle before his voice stopped her and she turned back to face him.

"Will I see you later?" he asked gruffly, clearing his throat as he stood and walked back towards his desk, his eyes focussed on his paperwork in preference to catching her gaze across the expanse of the room.

She shrugged slightly, the shift in direction from professional to personal conversation marginally disconcerting her. "I thought you were planning on working late."

"I am. I've got a lot to get through this afternoon."

"Okay, well...."

"I could drop by afterwards, though."

Grace raised an eyebrow. "I might be in bed by then, knowing your insane commitment to this job."

Boyd looked up at the playful flirtation of her tone, feeling their eyes lock as he grinned wolfishly, his heart beginning to thud slightly harder in his chest. "Well, keep it warm for me, then."

"Don't I always?"

His smile widened. "See you later, Grace."

She returned his expression in equal measure before stepping from the office and Boyd was unable to prevent his eyes from instinctively tracing the curves of her body as she walked away. _God, I've wasted so much time_, he thought wistfully as he watched her close the door behind her, the expressive blue eyes he loved so much sparkling before she turned away. Her operation for cancer and their traumatically painful encounter with the psychopath Linda Cummings eight months previously had provoked a sudden and blinding realisation of his feelings for the profiler, powerful emotions which had initially confused and overwhelmed him. He had known Grace for more than a decade, had been her colleague for almost as long, and yet it had taken several of her recent brushes with death for the clouds to finally be lifted from his vision. He smiled slightly as he recalled the evening she had fallen, sobbing with relief, into his arms after receiving the positive news that her cancer had been halted in its tracks, that the aggressive invader had been entirely and successfully eradicated from her being by the operation alone. In the aftermath they had made love hurriedly, desperately, clinging to each other as their bodies sought release, as their souls sought completion, and he had poured his heart into hers, the culmination of ten long years of repression, of transference, of denial.

His chest flooded with affection as he recalled the feel of her warm body in his bed that morning, her short hair tousled with sleep, her scent filling his senses as he breathed her in, easing her back closer towards the turgid thickness of his erection, a deep groan escaping his lips as he entered her easily, sensually, her soft gasps conveying her pleasure as he pressed gentle kisses to her neck. _Shit_, he thought suddenly, blinking himself back to reality as his body began to respond eagerly to the memory, _I'm never going to get anything done if I carry on down that road_.... Sighing with frustration, he reached for his computer mouse, reluctantly forcing his mind away from his lover and towards the task she had set for him, his thoughts beginning to solidify in his mind as his focussed professionalism reasserted itself. _Alright, DI Smart-arse_, he mused darkly, as he navigated into the Met database for the person in question, _let's see if your golden reputation is all it's cracked up to be...._


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer, Pairing, Rating & Spoilers**: See Chapter 1

**A/N**: Just wanted to say sorry for taking so long to get this next part written...but I have a good excuse, I promise - I'm 15 weeks' pregnant with my first baby!! :) Hubby and I are absolutely over the moon! So, naturally, that's my main focus at the moment and my writing (and everything else!) has kind of taken a back seat – however, now that we've had our first round of scans and blood tests and everything looks good, I feel I can relax a bit more and start to enjoy the pregnancy and the rest of my life again! Anyways, just wanted to share the joy and ask you all to forgive me if I take longer than usual to get things posted :) My thanks, as always, to **shadowsamurai83** for the beta.

* * *

Daniel McCaige reached up to straighten the front of his pale blue shirt and took a deep, cleansing breath, forcing uncharacteristic waves of nervousness to the pit of his stomach. His interview with Peter Boyd had been two weeks' previously and although Daniel had been undeniably flattered by his consideration for the Cold Case Squad, he had found the brooding DSI more than a little intimidating, his manner abrupt and defensive, the questions brief yet searching. The job offer had come through almost instantly, his immediate superior at the Flying Squad raising her eyebrows in surprise, but reluctantly signing his transfer papers once he had tried to explain. She had called him a masochist, a glutton for punishment; Peter Boyd's reputation was, after all, legendary….

"_I hope you know what you're letting yourself in for, Dan...."_

_He shrugged. "I can't explain it properly, Jill. I just know it's the right thing to do."_

_The brunette sighed. "He's a nightmare, you know; arrogant, controlling, and he was only a DS when I knew him. He must be even worse these days."_

"_I can handle him, ma'am. And, anyway, it'll be worth it for the kinds of cases I'll get to be involved in_;_ the scope for psychological insight is immense."_

_She narrowed her eyes. "Hmm. Just as long as you remember you're there as a copper and not as an academic."_

_He smiled. "I'd never presume to go in there as an academic."_

"_I take it Grace Foley could knock you into a cocked hat on that score?"_

"_Without even trying."_

_Jill laughed loudly and clapped him on the shoulder, her dark eyes softening as she looked at him. "I'd have you back on my team in an instant, you do know that, don't you?"_

_His smile broadened, grateful for the kindness of her words. "Thanks. I just...I need to try this. I think I'd regret it if I didn't."_

"_Well, if it all goes tits up or you end up walloping Boyd for being an arsehole...."_

"_You'll be the first person I ring."_

"_Glad to hear it. Good luck, Dan." _

....Daniel blinked himself back to reality, pushing away the memories of his final conversation with his now ex-boss as he stepped through the doorway to the Cold Case Headquarters, swallowing the residual ebb of trepidation that had tightened about his throat. A curly haired woman looked up from her desk as he entered, her brow marred by a slight frown as she stood to address him cautiously.

"Can I help you?"

Daniel smiled warmly and stepped forward, proffering his hand to the petite blonde. "DI McCaige. I'm joining the Unit as of today."

The woman's dark eyes registered realisation as she gripped his hand firmly. "DS Howard. Sorry, sir, I've been so rushed off my feet I didn't notice the date."

"Well, that's a good sign, isn't it? Must mean you've got a lot of cases."

She winced. "A lot of paperwork, actually. I've been playing constant catch-up since our other DI defected back to CID."

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Interesting turn of phrase."

"You'll get used to me, sir. I just call things as I see them."

"I consider myself duly warned. And it's Daniel."

"Kat." She grinned, stepping away from him and towards the coffee maker. "Brew? It's taken a lot of practice but I've finally got this bloody thing to work."

"You read my mind. Black with one would be great."

Kat smiled in acknowledgment before busying herself with their beverages, her nimble fingers tending to the ground coffee and utensils, the bitter aroma tickling her nostrils pleasantly as she worked. "So, Boyd mentioned you're from Finchley Flying Squad?"

Daniel moved to take a seat at one of the vacant desks. "Yeah, that's right. Been there five years, give or take."

"Louise Dixon still there?"

The DI grinned. "You know Louise?"

"We were at Hendon together. A bigger pain in the arse you couldn't hope to meet."

"She hasn't changed." He shrugged. "She's bloody good at her job, though."

"Always was."

Daniel paused before speaking again, allowing the cordial atmosphere in the room to settle, aware that he was headed for potentially dangerous ground. "So...how are things here, then?"

Kat shrugged, an attempt at nonchalance despite the discomfort lacing her stomach. "I won't lie to you, Daniel. It's been a struggle being the only junior officer here for the past eight months."

"I can imagine. Why do you think it's taken so long to employ someone else?"

She looked at him evenly. "You sure you want me to get into that?"

He inclined his head. "Grace filled me in on some of the details; I know Stella Goodman died in tragic circumstances and that Spencer Jordan....left under a bit of a cloud."

Kat exhaled forcefully. "Yeah, well....if he did....it wasn't a cloud of his own making, let's just put it that way."

"He and Boyd have problems?"

"Boyd has problems with everyone."

"I see...."

"With Grace as a possible exception."

Daniel raised a curious eyebrow. "How so?"

Kat approached him with two cups of steaming coffee and took a seat at her desk, considering her words carefully before answering him. "He's calmer when she's around and he....he defers to her a lot. Although Spence tells me it wasn't always like that, that they could draw blood with their arguments at time."

"Hmm. Sounds healthy."

"She just doesn't take any crap from him, that's all."

"And do you?"

The DS shrugged and took a sip of her coffee, suddenly keen to avoid his gaze. "He's my boss," she replied obliquely, causing Daniel to raise his eyebrows and draw a breath to speak before being interrupted by a deep baritone from across the room.

"Well, if you're making one, Kat...."

Kat rolled her eyes and stood up to approach the coffee maker anew as Daniel rose to his feet to greet his new boss, their hands meeting in a firm grip.

"Sir."

"I see you've met our resident caffeine addict, then."

Kat gave him a sickeningly sweet smile as she looked up from her task. "It's a recent addiction. One I've had to acquire to keep my eyelids permanently open for the past eight months."

The DSI studiously ignored her, turning towards Grace's office as he heard the profiler's door open, her delicate features creased in a warm smile as she stepped towards the group. Boyd had to force himself to maintain a neutral expression as he caught the subtle scent of her perfume. "And Grace you know."

"I certainly do." Smiling broadly, Daniel bent instinctively to kiss her on the cheek, a gentle sweeping of his lips across her skin, a gesture of comfortable familiarity. Boyd felt a surge of possessiveness prickle through his chest as he observed their interaction, the younger man's palm touching briefly at her waist as he pulled away, but he wrestled the emotion to the ground. "It's good to see you, Grace."

"You too," she replied, her blue eyes sparkling playfully as she stepped back next to Boyd. "And I'm glad to see you didn't change your mind at the last minute."

"Were you worried that I would?"

"I was worried I hadn't quite managed to convince you."

"I could hardly say no, Grace. You more or less threatened to tear my thesis to shreds."

Boyd raised an eyebrow, exchanging curious glances with Kat. "You did what?"

Grace rolled her eyes. "He's joking, Boyd. He's got an even more warped sense of humour than Spence."

Kat groaned loudly as the profiler grinned, and Boyd took the opportunity to speak again, an attempt to reassert his authority. "Anyway, Daniel, I'll take you down to the lab, introduce you to our pathologist...."

"No need." Eve's husky voice sounded from the lab doors, her hazel eyes shining as she approached the group, her hand confidently outstretched, her emerald earrings swinging enthusiastically with the rhythm of her walk. "Eve Lockhart," she said as her fingers met Daniel's. "It's a pleasure."

"Daniel McCaige."

"Well, I'll say this for you already, Inspector; your timing's bloody perfect."

A slight frown of curiosity flickered across his features. "How so?"

Eve grinned knowingly and turned her attention towards Boyd. "We've got a case."

* * *

Eve stood patiently by the notice board, her pen poised for action as she waited for her colleagues to settle before her, cups of coffee having been summarily distributed along with a packet of chocolate digestives, courtesy of Grace.

"Well, come on, then," Boyd encouraged momentarily through a mouthful of crumbs, his hand gesturing towards the still spotless board. "Don't keep us in suspense, Eve."

The scientist smiled, her enthusiasm bubbling over as she began to speak. "Okay. Last night I got a call from the local Police advising me of some bones that had been discovered at the site of an old hospital."

"In what circumstances?"

"The land's been given over to a local developer and he...."

Boyd snorted derisively. "Let me guess; 'affordable housing'."

Kat bristled visibly at her boss' tone, even as Grace sighed softly. "What's wrong with that?" the DS asked testily.

"Cowboy builders taking over the country is what's wrong with it. Packing in structurally unsound buildings onto every green space we've got left and not giving a shit about it."

Eve held up a finger. "It wasn't a green belt area, Boyd, it was an old hospital site; I thought I said that?"

"You did," Daniel replied, his affirmation causing the pathologist to throw up her hands with frustration, and he glanced towards Grace who was rubbing a hand wearily across her eyes. Momentarily she caught his gaze, shaking her head slightly at his curious expression.

"I'd never have got on the property ladder without the affordable housing scheme is all I'm saying," Kat continued obliviously, her concentration focussed on Boyd. "Same with most coppers my age."

The DSI blew out an irritated breath. "See, that's just the problem with the younger generation. You want everything handed to you on a plate."

The profiler placed a gentle hand on the younger woman's arm as she inhaled sharply to reply, keen to halt the argument in its tracks. "We're digressing before we've even begun," she said, her expressive eyes levelling a silent warning at Boyd. "Carry on, Eve."

Daniel found himself fighting back an amused smile as Eve cleared her throat and cast a grateful glance in Grace's direction. _Very interesting_, he thought, as Boyd's mutterings began to slowly subside. _She's got him on a tight rein, then.... _

"So, anyway," the scientist said, continuing in her monologue, "the developer moved in the diggers yesterday to clear the remaining rubble and debris from the site....and without much excavation they started pulling up human bones."

"Definitely human?" the DI asked.

"Well, they weren't sure at first. But when they started unearthing skulls they stopped and called the Police."

"How many?" Boyd asked.

"I don't know yet. Ten so far and counting."

"Any idea how long they've been there?"

The pathologist looked at him pointedly. "Give me a chance, Boyd. I haven't even seen them, this is all based on a phone conversation at ten o'clock last night."

Kat reigned in a smile. "You said the site used to contain a hospital? Why wasn't it cleared before?"

"Pass. I haven't had time to do any research yet, I've got no idea when the site closed down."

"I'll get right on it if you give me the location."

Eve smiled gratefully as the DS reached for a pen. Boyd took a breath to query the scientist further. "Have you asked for the bodies to be brought here?"

She shrugged her slender shoulders. "I thought I'd check with you first, see if you wanted to take it on."

The DSI grinned. "Potentially a site of mass murder? Of course we want to take it on."

"Or just mass burial," Grace added, ignoring the reactive groan she had predicted would emanate in her direction, and holding up a placating palm. "I'm just saying let's not leap to conclusions before Eve's had a chance to examine the bodies and the site."

"Oh, come on. Are you seriously telling me there's nothing suspicious about ten plus bodies lying in rubble for God knows how long?"

"Well, that's just the point, Boyd. We don't know any details yet, it's far too soon to speculate about anything."

He smiled boyishly. "It's fundamental to my nature, Grace. Anyway, whatever the background, this kind of discovery always warrants an investigation, don't you think?"

The profiler gave a conciliatory shrug. "Of course. I just think we need to approach it in a balanced way."

"I always approach things in a balanced way."

Grace felt the corners of her mouth twitch. "If you say so."

"I'm renowned for it."

Eve spoke again in time to cover Kat's choked attempt to suppress her reactive mirth at their boss' words. "Anyway, I was thinking of heading down to the site now if anyone's keen on joining me. I just need to grab my kit."

"We're right behind you," Boyd replied, rising to his feet as the rest of the team followed suit to retrieve their coats and scarves, his hand resting fleetingly in the hollow of Grace's back as his body shadowed hers closely through the door.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer, Pairing, Rating & Spoilers**: See Chapter 1

**A/N**: Just wanted to say thanks to everyone for the congrats on my news; we had our 20 week scan two weeks ago and everything is looking great :) Also I want to apologise for the huge delay in getting this chapter written, my muse has been summarily uncooperative lately and it's been driving me nuts! My perpetual thanks to **shadowsamurai83** for the beta; your help is always appreciated.

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Boyd frowned deeply as he stepped from the car to survey his surroundings, his stomach tightening at the assault on his senses. _My God, it was obliterated...._ Charred debris and rubble littered the landscape before his eyes, the remains of a dwelling long ago seemingly ravaged by the burning tendrils of fire, eerily silent but for the bustling activity of forensic scientists in their customary white suits, heads and bodies bent as they performed their examinations. _What a way to die_, he thought gloomily as his mind summoned unbidden the images of the victims of the inferno, their faces twisted in agony, their hands clawing desperately for escape as the building collapsed around them, perpetually trapping them beneath the oppressive weight of its confines.

"Detective Superintendent Boyd?"

Boyd blinked rapidly from his reverie, nodding his affirmation as he approached the tall uniformed woman who proffered her hand towards him, her sharp blue eyes flickering with intelligence.

"I'm Inspector Anna Shilton, my team was first on the scene last night."

Boyd grasped her hand firmly before releasing it. "You were the one who called Dr. Lockhart?"

The said pathologist grinned as she reached the two officers, interrupting the older woman as she took a breath to speak. "Oh, Anna and I go way back. I've got her well trained to contact me if she even _suspects_ something might be related to a cold case."

Anna sighed theatrically whilst smiling warmly at her friend. "I wish I could deny it but it's true."

"So, any more information on the number of bodies?" Boyd asked, keen to prevent the obvious sense of nostalgia from disrupting the flow of conversation.

The Inspector shook her head, at once business-like as she addressed her superior. "There's more coming up all the time, sir; could be a few days before we have a final number for you."

Boyd blew out an irritated breath. "Why the hell's it taken until now for the site to be cleared, can you tell me that? Did no one miss these people?"

"You'll need to search through the archives to find out. I'm pretty sure there would've been an original investigation, arson on this scale, if that's indeed what it was."

Eve nodded her agreement. "Yeah. Something about all this is very familiar, but I can't quite put my finger on it."

"Hmm. I'll get Kat to start digging," Boyd replied absently, his eyes scouring the scene around him, taking in the movements of the scientists as they continued to systematically document their findings.

The pathologist grinned, her chestnut eyes sparkling. "No pun intended, of course."

Boyd rolled his eyes, ignoring his colleague's mirth as he addressed his fellow officer once more, Eve's throaty laughter echoing between them as she walked away. "Anything else of note been found so far in the debris?" he asked.

Anna shrugged, trying desperately to rein in a smile as Eve caught her eye on her way past. "Hard to say, sir. We're bagging everything we come across; surgical implements, bits of machinery, jewellery....God knows whether any of it'll be relevant but...."

"We've got so little to go on at this stage. Anything could be significant."

"My thoughts exactly. Plus if the bodies can't be identified by DNA or dental records, personal effects might at least jog someone's memory, a relative perhaps."

Boyd sighed heavily. "I'm not holding my breath on that one."

"I didn't think you would be. We never get that lucky in this job."

The two shared a wry, knowing smile, one born of bitter experience before the DSI sobered once more. "What about the site manager for the clearance project? What did he have to say?"

"He was white as a sheet when I interviewed him, totally shell-shocked."

"No reason to think he was lying?"

"None at all, sir. His paperwork's all above board; he was hired by the local government affordable housing scheme...."

"And have you made contact with someone there?"

"Not yet. It's on my to-do list."

He sighed softly. "Which has suddenly become _my_ to-do list, it would seem."

Anna grinned. "Eve assured me you'd want this case, sir. Although she does have a terrible habit of opening her mouth before engaging her brain."

"And dropping the rest of us in the shit in the process."

"In the best possible way, of course."

"Of course."

"Anyway, isn't that what delegation's for by the time you reach Superintendent level?"

"Absolutely. My DI's to-do list is getting longer and longer as we speak."

The Inspector laughed. "On that note, sir, I'd best press on. I'll have all the Section Nine statements over to you ASAP, plus my forensic team's report."

"Just your initial findings will be fine. I'd like Eve to take over directing the forensic teams from this point forward."

Anna held up her palms. "You won't get any argument from me. This case has got 'nightmare' written all over it."

He grinned boyishly. "Nightmare cases are my speciality."

"Hmm. So I've heard."

Boyd moved to shake the younger woman's hand once more. "I'll be in touch if we need any further info."

"By all means. Good luck with it all."

With a final polite smile, Anna walked away, leaving Boyd to search the site's perimeter before his eyes found their target. Silently he approached, the subject of his attention clearly deep in thought, her coat pulled tightly about her slender frame, her arms folded across her chest.

"So come on then, Grace," he opened as he reached side. "I know you're just dying to share your psychological theories on arson….Or are you going to tell me not to leap to conclusions about a fire of unknown origins?"

She gave him a sideways glance, a hint of a smile playing across her features. "Arson in general or this one in particular?"

He raised his eyebrows, her ready acceptance of his instinct surprising him slightly. "Either just so long as you keep it simple."

"Don't I always for you poor policemen?"

"You know you don't. Most of the time I haven't got a bloody clue what you're going on about, especially when you start using long words."

She tutted mock reproachfully. "Shame on you, Boyd. And there's me thinking you'd learnt something after all these years."

"Oh, I have. How to zone out when you start with the psychobabble."

"Very funny."

"Go on, then. Bowl me over, I can take it."

Her smile broadened and then quickly receded, her gaze returning to the desolate landscape ahead of them. "Can it wait till we get back to the office?" she murmured quietly, sensing without turning to face him the worried frown she was certain was now creasing his brow.

"You alright?" he asked softly, the sudden change in her demeanour disconcerting him as he stepped almost imperceptibly closer, fighting a strong urge to touch her.

"Yeah, it's...." She sighed heavily, the breath shuddering through her body. "When Eve mentioned this case I wasn't sure but....St. Bartholomew's Hospital...."

"What about it?"

"You're standing in it. Or at least, what's left of it; it was destroyed in a suspected arson attack which originated in the cancer ward. November '87."

Boyd felt his mouth fall open in surprise at her words. "Is this just you showing off your superior memory skills or...?"

She shook her head. "They never cleared the site because the authorities were worried about the radiation risk. I think it was just assumed there were no survivors, but no one could get close enough to check."

He sighed at the oblique nature of her reply. "Grace...."

Grace closed her eyes briefly, taking a breath to steady herself before speaking again, her memories threatening to overwhelm her. "Jack...was referred here for treatment when he was first diagnosed. It was one of the leading cancer hospitals in London until it was obliterated by the fire." She paused to swallow the knotted lump in her throat. "We ended up having to go elsewhere and...well, you know how it turned out in the long run."

_Oh, Christ_. Unable to stop himself, Boyd reached out and laid his palm against her back lightly, hoping he was successfully managing to convey his unequivocal support, his empathy through the brief contact of his fingertips against her body. "You going to be okay with this?" he asked gently, his voice low, barely above a whisper.

She turned her head to grant him a faint, grateful smile, determined to reassure him. "I'll be fine." Her smile widened at his dubious expression. "Really. It's just...painful memories, you know? It wasn't the easiest time of my life back then."

"I'd say that's an understatement." _Your husband was dying of cancer and you had three small kids...It's a wonder you didn't have a nervous breakdown...._

"Maybe so." She set her jaw with determination, forcing her perpetually present grief to the recesses of her mind. "But my remembering it all has at least given us a starting point for this case; that's one positive."

He shook his head incredulously. "Only you could put it like that."

"It's better than dwelling on the alternative."

"I want you to promise you'll tell me if this investigation gets too much, Grace."

"It won't."

He stepped closer once more. "Promise me."

Her expression softened at the concerned intensity in his voice. "You don't need to worry about me, Peter. It was nearly twenty years ago."

"Meaning it doesn't still affect you? And I thought I was the one in denial."

"Meaning I don't let it dominate every aspect of my life any more. I'm more than capable of being involved in this investigation without losing the plot."

He sighed. "I wasn't questioning your professional competence, Grace."

"No, I know. You were just being sweet."

He pulled a face. "Please. I've got a reputation to maintain."

"Oh, of course. Can't let them see you're a big softie underneath that gruff exterior crap, can we?" Her sapphire eyes were shining as she quietly teased him.

"'Softie'? Jesus, is that how you see me?" Boyd groaned theatrically. "You've corrupted me, Grace, you know that? Well and truly."

"Good. Long may it continue." She smiled warmly, allowing the affection to flow freely between them before forcing herself back to the confines of her professional demeanour. "I'll get Kat and head back to the office. I need to read up a bit on arson, anyway, see what I can come up with."

He returned her smile, his heart swelling at their easy interaction. "Alright. I'm not sure there's much more we can achieve here as it is." He grinned widely. "Unless you think I can convince your man McCaige to don a forensic suit and give Eve a hand?"

"Don't you dare. She's got more than enough assistance from Anna Shilton's SOCOs."

Boyd shrugged. "Might determine how keen he is about his new job, though."

"He'd be able to spot it as a test at twenty paces."

"Bloody psychic as well then, is he?"

Grace rolled her eyes and began to walk away from him and towards Kat's hunched figure as she bent to inspect the ground. "I'll see you later."

"I'll be back at the office within the hour."

"Don't get your hopes up, Boyd," she called over her shoulder. "Arson's a notoriously difficult crime to profile."

"Better get to it, then," he replied mischievously, watching her retreating back briefly before heading in the opposite direction, his mind focussing once more on the case stretching out before him like a maze waiting to be explored.


End file.
